Chacha Choudhry And The Missing Businessman

It was a crisp summer morning and Chacha Choudhry, as was customary on a Sunday with him, sipped at his morning tea while Sabu, his alien sidekick, worked out with his dolphin sized clubs. Bini, Chacha's wife was busy preparing onion fritters for the special Sunday morning breakfast. The clock had just struck 9:00 AM when a lady, middle-aged with black hair, stocky and short came running in, "Chacha Ji !" She screamed. 

Bini came rushing forward to offer the visibly distressed woman a seat and a glass of water.

"What's your name sister?" Asked Bini with enlarged eyes. Chacha Ji shuffled his feet and Sabu descended from the gymnasium taking an enormous step towards the three. "Chacha Ji, my husband" the woman gasped for breath as she fought over the impulse to retch, "my husband is in trouble. The police denied me justice. Only you can help me now." 

Chacha took the reins in his hand and ordered the lady to calm down. Once the lady settled and a little color returned to her cheeks, Chacha ordered her to tell her tale. "...and do not omit any details. What might not be clear to you might make sense to me." (Chacha Choudhry's brain is faster than a computer).

"My name is Mamta Maikhuri, my husband Rupani Maikhuri is a businessman and works at Sadar Manzil Bazaar about 30 kilometers from our home. I seldom go to his workplace but yesterday I had to return a crockery set I borrowed from a friend who lives at Marwadi road near Sadar Manzil. It was four thirty in the evening when suddenly I saw my husband staring at me from the first-floor window of his shop which is on the ground floor. His face was all black and he was wearing nothing but a torn blanket. He looked at me with an expression of pain and suddenly disappeared behind the wall. The building owner threw me out as I tried to enter the first floor. I returned with two constables and after examining found my husband's clothes and wallet in the garbage behind the building." The police have registered a missing person report."

"Who was present when the police entered the building?" Asked Chacha with his brow drawn close together.

"There were only five people in the building. The owner who lives on the second floor flat, the receptionist Ramesh at our first-floor showroom, two helpers of our shop and an old cripple who lives on the first floor."

"Sabu, come let us investigate the matter." 

Together he and Sabu went down to Sadar Manzil and entered the showroom building. The entry was through a small opening besides the front showroom display. The dirty and red spit stained staircase led to a small landing through which two rooms on each floor was accessible. The first-floor corridor was deserted except for a pair of black leather shoes and white socks. The second floor had a to-let sign and a nameplate for the building manager hung up on the doors.

The owner who lived on the second floor confessed to run an illegal hookah lounge as soon as he set eyes on Sabu. Of Mr. Maikhuri, he had no clue except that he was an excellent person and had no trouble paying up his rent. His tenant, the cripple was trouble. An old man of fifty-five lived here with his nephew since last thirty years and begged on the streets in front of the shop. He just didn't have the heart to throw him out. He paid up all right.

Chacha Choudhry then went to meet the cripple. The cripple did not want to talk to him and he flatly refuses to even look at him. When Sabu threatened to throw the dirty little nephew out of the window did he look up at Chacha Ji and surrendered. (Far away a volcano erupts whenever Sabu loses his temper). Chacha ji asked the beggar his name and place of birth. He asked him his deity of worship, his wife's name, and his father's name, the name of his in-laws, the name of his in-law's in-laws. The beggar answered all the questions. He was strutting consistently and had a huge mole over his right cheek, just under the eye. Finally, Chacha was satisfied with what he had gathered and left for home. 

Mrs. Maikhuri was weeping all over Bini's handkerchief when the duo arrived. "I have found your husband. He is alive and well." He announced.

Sabu mouthed the word found and his eyes squished by the weight of his hung brow. 

"When I went to question the owner of the building I noticed the well-polished shoes and a pair of washed socks on the first floor. The beggar also had a ring of tan on his right hand fingers and when I asked him  questions about his family he answered without any hesitation as if rehearsed. A normal person will not rehearse his in-law's names and hesitates to answer such personal queries. But the beggar was very thorough and did not for an instant doubt the purpose of these questions. Your husband has been sitting like a beggar for the past thirty years. With a little soot, a torn blanket, and a cripple he has been extorting money from citizens. This also explains him purchasing a luxury home so far away from the place of work although the Sadar Manzil area is also affordable to a businessman of this stature. When he saw you yesterday, he was ashamed and threw away his clothes to disguise as the beggar."

Sabu's mouth hung open and Bini covered her mouth in amazement.